


Absolutely Smitten

by phoelynfabulous



Category: Kirby (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff, Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, im surprised at how few soulmate aus there are for kirby, since souls are important to the lore and all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoelynfabulous/pseuds/phoelynfabulous
Summary: Nothing is set in stone, but sometimes, it seems as though some people were simply destined to meet.
Relationships: Magolor & Mark | Marx, Magolor/Mark | Marx, Queen Sectonia/Taranza (Kirby)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	Absolutely Smitten

**Author's Note:**

> Happy soulmate month!
> 
> ...Hm? You didn't know august was soulmate month? That's okay, I made it up. Enjoy your fluff.

“Hey, Meta Knight?”

The knight in question turned to Kirby with a raised eyebrow. They'd been having a quiet walk – well, mostly quiet, as Kirby tended to hum and whistle and improvise songs as they skipped down the path, when they seemed to have an inquiry.

This was a fairly common occurrence. Kirby was young and ever-learning, so they tended to ask seemingly random questions whenever the thought struck them.

“Go on.”

“What's a soulmate?”

Every question they asked seemed to always find a way to catch him off guard, however.

“Why do you ask?” Meta Knight asked in return, simply because he knew Kirby would be bursting to elaborate-

The adolescent astral beamed. Meta Knight was correct.

“ _Well,_ on my way over I saw a few Waddle Dees and I walked by them and then I heard one of them gasp and I looked over and they fell over and almost fainted and everyone around was like _woah_ -” Kirby took a breath and continued at their breakneck pace, “but one of the Dees was like _are you okay_ except they stopped all shocked and looked like they might fall over too and their face was _super_ red and then they and the other ones helped them back up and they were all cooing like _aww you found your soulmate!_ So I wanna know what it is!”

Kirby was panting by the time they were done. Meta Knight chuckled – he wished he could've seen it for himself, it must've been adorable.

“Everyone has a soul. They're all unique, shaped by the personality of the one they belong to. Of course, this means that those with similar personalities have similar souls. Every difference also matters.” He looked over at Kirby, who was invested in his explanation. “Sometimes those differences or similarities can cause problems between the two, or sometimes it makes them grow closer.”

He smiled. “When a soul finds a soul with enough similarities to perfectly relate to it, and yet with enough differences to compliment it, it simply... _clicks._ The souls try to stay together and get as close as possible. Because a soul is representative of a personality, those individuals will get along nicely as well. They usually end up becoming best friends, if not partners.”

Kirby tilted their head. “Then what happened to the little Waddle Dee?”

Meta Knight's smile was perhaps a tad mischievous.

“Well, if you're going one way, and your soul is going the other way very quickly, you might get the wind knocked out of you. Finding your soulmate is a bit of a shock.”

“Oh no!” Kirby giggled, “That poor Dee! Well, at least they found someone to love, right?”

After a few minutes, Kirby had another question.

“Do you have a soulmate?”

“I haven't met anyone in a while, no.”

“You can have more than one?”

“Of course. They just have be similar to you. If you're one in a million, there must be seven thousand people just like you.”

“I don't think that's how that saying goes!” Kirby laughed.

Another minute passed.

“Well... do I know anyone who _does_ have any soulmates?”

“Hmm...”

\-------

To say that he was anxious would be the biggest understatement in the history of Floralia.

“Alright, I want everyone on their absolute _best_ behavior! Remember, these decorations are of _royal importance,_ so absolutely _nothing_ can go wrong while we show them to the King, Queen, and Princess to be judged for the flower festival! Zero funny business! Zero mistakes! Got that?”

His supervisor wasn't helping matters. He and the rest of his fellow decorators and gardeners nodded as Taranza clutched his basket in a white-knuckle grip.

“The _second_ that bell rings, these doors will open and-”

_DING!_

They were lucky that they'd already rehearsed this hundreds of times.

Everyone in formal lines, with perfect posture with their banners and flowers ready to be presented, stood before the opening doors, led by their supervisor.

“Your Majesty Queen Elytra, Your Majesty King Ivyrus, and Your Highness Princess Sectonia. We present to you our humble gift of skill and patience in the form of these offerings for the Festival of Flowers.”

“Proceed,” said the King to the supervisor.

Everyone began filing in with their own assigned groups – Taranza was stationed with two other waspiders who held bouquets of flower wreaths to be hung up in the square, while Taranza himself held a basket containing a carefully woven length of flower chain designed to line the entire area. Not a single flower was out of place in the pattern he'd created – he knew because he'd quintuple-checked.

As their group approached the throne, he rehearsed in his mind – _I've brought a flower chain to encompass the square, composed of blue, purple, and gold enchanted lilies._ He knew his lines well, and when the time would come to say them the stress would be over and done with.

Nevermind that he had to say it in front of the King, Queen, and Princess.

No pressure.

His train of thought was broken by a sharp gasp and an alarmed squeak in front of him.

He lifted his head to look at who'd made the sound-

His ears rang. His eyes swam. His head spun. Had he blacked out? It felt like it.

He processed things slowly. His basket was on the ground, sideways, the chain sprawled out along the floor. Someone was helping him back up – he had fallen? - her gloved hands were soft, as though she'd woven them herself with her own enchanted silk, and her touch was gentle as though she were worried he'd break. It was almost dead silent, if not for the words of the one helping him-

“Oh my goodness, I- Are you alright? I-I'm sorry-? I just-”

It occurred to him that the two other waspiders on his team were not, in fact, the waspider helping him up. The one helping him up had on a lovely royal gown and a face full of makeup, her hair up in a bun... a tiara on her head.

Taranza sprang back up quickly, despite the fact that it almost made him black out again, and bowed his head apologetically, “I-I'm so sorry-! I mean-! M-my sincerest apologies, Your Highness, I-I'll clean this up- I'm sorry-”

Princess Sectonia seemed equally as apologetic. The King and Queen looked like they were trying to gesture for the Princess to retake her place on the throne. His fellow gardeners were horrified. His supervisor was trying to kill him with his glare alone.

Taranza just started quickly picking up his flower chain and setting it back up in the basket.

To his surprise, the Princess helped him. She treated the flowers like fine china, she held them so delicately as she placed them in the basket alongside him.

As they both rose up, she stammered a bit and said, “Your flowers are lovely...”

Taranza might have panicked a bit. Here he was, completely disrupting the showcasing of the flowers in front of the King and Queen, being helped and complimented by the Princess – he had to show some kind of respect, something he could do-

“Here,” he said nervously, plucking a lily from the pattern and placing it in her hair, “keep one.”

His supervisor looked like he was about to explode, he just _touched the Princess's hair,_ oh stars-

Princess Sectonia blushed and returned to her throne with a soft “Thank you.”

When she settled, the Queen looked back to the group. “As you were.”

Taranza's mind was completely blank up until it was he and his team's turn to present their decorations. He used two of his hands to hold up a length of the chain. “I've brought a flower chain to encompass the square, composed of blue, purple, and gold enchanted lilies.”

Princess Sectonia smiled. King Ivyrus nodded in approval.

“You're missing a flower,” Queen Elytra informed him.

He looked down at the chain in surprise. Sure enough; blue, purple, gold, purple, blue, the same again, and then, blue, purple, purple, blue.

Shocked that he'd miss something that noticeable, Taranza looked up to apologize- he'd messed up so much- how could he have-

The enchanted golden lily looked stunning in Princess Sectonia's silver hair.

He smiled softly. “The golden lily belongs to the Princess now, Your Majesty. I'll grow a replacement for the festival immediately.”

The Queen blinked, then looked over to the Princess to see the flower's new home. She quietly laughed, to Taranza's relief, then called for the next group.

Taranza was given a few minutes to breathe outside in the cool night air. He was glad the showcase was over.

“ _ **WHAT WAS THAT?!”**_

And the peace was swiftly broken.

The gardeners stared at him with disappointment, but it shifted quickly to pity when he was faced with the wrath of the supervisor, who screamed at him with unrighteous fury for all the mistakes he'd made, “ _You dropped your basket the moment you walked in!”_ and _“You float! How did you manage to fall?!_ ” and of course, “ _How could you disrespect the Princess like that?! Making her pick up your mess?! Touching her unprompted?! We're not going to be chosen for the ceremony and_ _ **you're**_ _going to be fired and then executed for treason!”_

He might have been overreacting a bit. Taranza did nothing but take the fall.

“ _What happened out there?!”_

“I-...I'm not sure, sir, it's a blur...”

“ _ **Well-**_ ”

“Ahem,” a third party cleared their throat.

Taranza suddenly realized that the other gardeners were bowing.

He and the supervisor turned to find Her Highness Princess Sectonia standing there, looking regal and displeased.

“Perhaps,” she began, “you shouldn't be wasting time shouting at the gardener who fainted from stress, and should instead consider soothing and reassuring them, getting them to a medic in case it's due to an underlying problem.”

The supervisor stared, mouth agape, before bowing and murmuring an apology.

“...Anyways. I am here to announce that your group has been selected for the decorating of the town square for the Festival of Flowers.” She turned to face the supervisor directly, “However, we may need a substitute for the project's supervision.”

Eyebrows went up all around. Glances were shared, and everyone stared at the clearly shaken up supervisor.

“Dismissed.”

He only missed a beat before signaling his group, and everyone began filing out-

Taranza felt a soft gloved hand touch his shoulder. “Except you,” the Princess said softly.

He turned to face her, the two of them alone. The moonlit flower in her hair sparkled as though it were made of sunlight, perfectly complimenting the sunglow orange of her curled horns, contrasting with the shimmering silver of her hair. It was as though the sun, moon and stars united to create one perfect being before him.

Her face was concerned, and curious, searching. Eyeliner and mascara accented the natural glow of her eyes, a shade of lavender due to the magic that emanated from them. The rich, dark color of her skin made them seem all the brighter.

She seemed at a loss for words. Two hands fidgeted in front of her. One adjusted her hair, the other lifted off his shoulder.

Finally, the Princess drew back a bit. She ever-so-delicately took the enchanted lily from her hair, plucked away and held in front of her to admire.

She held it out to him.

“Here- you need this for your chain's pattern...”

He was so humbled in her presence. He bowed his head, “No no, Your Highness, please keep it- consider it an apology for my interruption-” he said as he nervously pushed her hands back towards her.

She smiled nervously, “I insist-”

“So do I-”

“Very well...” She held the flower close, her cheeks grew pink. “I... don't know how to put it back...”

There was a moment of stillness and quiet. He slowly took the flower from her, placed one hand carefully on the side of her face, another hand pulling back a few strands of hair. There, he tucked the lily in beneath her left horn, allowing her hair to fall back into place as he withdrew.

“...It perfectly accentuates your beauty, Your Highness.”

She blinked a bit. A sheepish smile crossed her face, she turned away, embarrassed. “The flower is the only beauty I see...”

Taranza's eyes widened. She would... insult herself? Could she not see how perfect she was? Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, her face was red now, she seemed as if she were trying to shrink back, seem meek and small.

“...If that's the case, Your Highness,” Taranza began boldly, “then the next gift I bring you will have to be a mirror, just so you can see how wrong you are.”

Wait. Oh, dear, it'd felt really clever in his head but now it sounded like he was saying she was blind or something, he'd just called the Princess _wrong,_ uh oh-

Except that Princess Sectonia was laughing.

It was a gorgeous sound- she'd just looked up in surprise at his words and let out a little squeak of a laugh, and then it was like she couldn't restrain herself and all her amusement and excitement and joy kept spilling out of her no matter how hard she tried to stop it, like little tinkling bells. If he'd thought she was physically beautiful before, her soul was absolutely divine.

“Right, right- I meant to ask for your name-” Sectonia managed to get out through her stifled laughter.

“Taranza.” He answered with a giggle and a smile of his own- her laughter was contagious-

“It's an honor to meet you, Taranza. I'm Sectonia.”

Taranza tilted his head a bit. Princess Sectonia let out a tiny, high pitched little 'oh' to herself as she slowly processed her mistake.

He didn't think her face could've gotten any more red, but here she was, her expression shifting into a horrified 'just-told-my-waitress-to-enjoy-her-meal-too', sort of expression, the 'got-stuck-between-saying- _you're-welcome_ -and- _no-problem-_ and-happily-said- _your-problem_ ', sort of expression.

Taranza desperately tried to restrain his laughter. He was sure he was making some odd sounds in his attempt.

“It's nice to meet you, _Princess_ Sectonia,” he gently teased.

And oh, how they both _burst_ into laughter at what a disaster they both were.

It must've been quite a sight – the future queen and a loyal servant of hers, both of them bright tomato red in the face and laughing uncontrollably in the night.

Taranza wouldn't have it any other way.

\-------

The room did not look more interesting upside down.

Nor sideways, nor spinning, nor while spinning sideways and trying to balance a book on his head, but he had absolutely nothing better to do.

Being in space was probably more fun when you were in space with people.

“Lor,” Magolor called, “search for locations of interest.”

The ship beeped in response and began scanning. Magolor lifted the book from his head, righted himself, and began actually reading it.

For about two seconds before the Lor began beeping furiously.

He dropped the book in his surprise and rushed to the control panel, worried that he'd hit something, but in actuality the ship's scanners had found something very interesting, very quickly.

_High energy concentrations detected_

_Magical interference detected_

_Ancient technology detected_

_High-powered artifact detected_

...That sounded like a fun way to spend the afternoon.

“Lor, advanced scan on those coordinates, set a course for the edge of the interference!” Magolor called, leaning in towards the screen in his excitement. This was right up his alley! He was good at navigating in Another Dimension through the nebulous energy, his skill in magic would allow him to bypass the magical interference with little effort, he had been studying ancient tech with enough success to repair and operate an ancient ship, and oh boy, he _loved_ artifacts, _**especially**_ of the high-powered variety.

This extraordinarily boring day was about to become one of the best in his life!

And it only got better when he received the new data.

_Patterns in shared magical and technological signals indicate presence of Clockwork Comet._

Magolor was practically vibrating in place.

A Clockwork Comet.

A. _Clockwork._ _ **Comet.**_

He summoned his journal and began penning down his thoughts with a swiftness that could've surpassed the Lor's warp speed as he frantically thought of ideas for wishes to make.

After a few minutes of excited giggling and writing, his ship indicated that the course was set and he could begin the trip to the Comet whenever he'd like. He'd decided the best wish he'd come up with was either _'I wish for infinite wishes'_ or _'I wish for the ability to grant wishes (even my own)'_.

Magolor thought it was pretty clever.

As he practically lunged towards the start button, he glanced up at the advanced scans again to see that, apparently, the Comet was only actually _one_ of the four things going on in that spot.

While the Lor began crafting the portal that would change his life forever, Magolor read the newest reports. In summary;

-The high energy concentrations seemed to be linked to the Comet in some way, as though it's power was leaking into the space around it. As far as Magolor was aware, this was unheard of.

-The magical interference would be, at first glance, the same way, however it seemed to have been exacerbated by a series of extremely powerful spells cast around haphazardly, as if the one casting didn't quite know how to use them. A new magic user with that much power seemed absurd, though.

-The ancient technology was what the ship's computer diagnosed as a Clockwork Comet, but there were also several small structures of ancient origin dotted around the local star system.

-The artifact was _completely_ unknown. The Lor was unable to find any matches to any known artifacts in it's entire database, including Magolor's scanned-in books detailing more recent creations. It was almost as if it were _just_ created.

He looked into it a little more to find that while the Lor couldn't figure out what it was, it could describe what it scanned, exactly.

It was primarily composed of auric gold, so it was clearly a strong artifact. There was also the presence of rubies that would imply the same thing – gems and crystals were always a good sign, they usually signaled dense pockets of magic.

The ship's scanners also had trouble figuring out if it was broken, or if there was more than one. Magolor hoped there were two, as it looked like there might be. Maybe it was supposed to be a pair?

Twelve hexagonal panels had Magolor nearly jumping for joy. Six-tiered magical plating, in a set of twelve, crystalline in nature?! Even if the crystal was only glass, the power held within would be enough to change a planet's tides and move mountains! Especially at the size the ship was implying!

The only thing he was raising an eyebrow at was that the ship was trying to designate it as 'organic'.

It wasn't organic. It was made of gold and jewels and glass. But the Lor still insisted that somehow, this artifact contained living blood and bone.

He looked over at the radar to find they were nearly there, but something else seemed a little off.

Clockwork Comets were planet sized, utterly enormous constructions. But this seemed a little too large. As he got closer, it seemed more comparable to an asteroid field in sheer size.

He paid it no mind until they dropped out of warp.

He stared blankly at the sight before him. A pit formed in his stomach, shivers crawling up his spine, raising his hackles and making his ears fold back. He felt his heart beating louder and had the very distinct feeling that he should not be there.

He had arrived at the Clockwork Comet to find that it wasn't there.

A weathervane tilted about in an endless spin. Golden gears and screws were strewn about haphazardly. Big, golden shards littered the area, as though the face of the thing had shattered.

Broken.

Broken, far beyond repair.

Nearly every single instinct Magolor had screamed at him to _run._ Leave and don't look back. Whatever had done this could easily do the same to him and his precious Starcutter.

The last one made him glance back up at the screen to see it was pinpointing the artifact's location. Dead ahead.

Magolor took in a shaky breath, turned on the Lor's brights, and slowly crept forward into the debris field.

He began whistling a tune to himself only about a minute in. It was far too quiet. The cheery little tune he'd come up with wasn't helping the mood very much.

He glanced over at the radar again only to do a double take. He'd been going in a perfectly straight line, but the artifact had ended up to the right of him.

When Magolor began turning the ship, he watched the radar. The thing stayed on his right, and was getting closer.

He felt significantly less safe as he realized that it was _definitely_ moving. He considered activating the Lor's shields, or maybe giving up and opening fire-

_Knock-knock-knock._

Magolor jolted and cursed in Halcandran, breathing hard as he looked to the right wall where the sound had come from.

… _I probably just bumped into something. That's all. Just a coincidence._

_**Knock-knock-knock!** _

“...Lor. Set shields to fifty percent power.”

His voice shook. He charged an offensive spell and headed for the upper deck.

He took a deep breath and opened the door, heading out into the darkness of space.

Magolor heard the distinctive sound of someone kicking the wall, grumbling under their breath.

“Hello in there~!” They singsonged in a way that made them sound impatient.

For whatever reason, hearing the slightly annoying voice of this unknown entity who may or may not possess a comet-destroying artifact both reassured him and made his heart skip a beat or two. Odd.

He approached the edge of the deck and looked down at them-

…

…

…

…

… huh?

… Oh, uh... right, wasn't he... doing... something?

He was looking... looking for... um... an artifact! Right, right, he'd been looking for an artifact out here by this broken comet. Yeah.

And someone had been knocking on his ship? And they might have it, based on the radar signal. Uh huh.

And he was looking right at them, and they were looking at him too.

Luckily, they both seemed equally as surprised to see each other, for some reason.

The person in front of him was small and round, as most things from this corner of the galaxy were. Definitely intelligent, since they could speak and were wearing clothes. They were adorned in some clunky shoes and a red bowtie, along with a mismatched jester hat.

They seemed completely and utterly out of place.

Of all the people to find in a wrecked Clockwork Comet, in the presence of one of the most powerful artifacts he'd ever seen, a little purple jester who looked like they didn't sleep much would not be his first guess.

Maybe that's why he'd seemingly blacked out.

They were recovering from a similar state, it seemed, as they blinked and tried to process what was in front of them.

“... _who are you?_ ” Magolor absentmindedly asked, more to himself than to his unexpected guest, in Halcandran.

“...Oh. Uh, do you understand me?” they responded upon hearing the foreign language.

Oh, right. The most commonly spoken language is this dimension was not, in fact, Halcandran. “Yes, sorry.”

“Right, right, right,” they muttered, still a little out of it, “Can you _please_ turn those lights off? Some of us are trying to sleep off a headache over here!”

Magolor suddenly realized how banged-up they looked. If you asked him, he'd tell you it looked like he'd been smacked around with a hammer for an hour or two, with how he was peppered in bruises and-

Looking into their eyes, he realized how their pupils were lightly expanding and contracting.

“Are- are you concussed?”

“Probably, considering the migraine. Anyways, about those headlights-”

“You aren't supposed to sleep with a concussion!” shouted Magolor. The odd little clown flinched at the volume of his words and, deciding that this might as well happen, he scooped them up and carried them into the ship.

“Woah woah woah, where are we going?!”

“To the medical bay!”

“Why?!” They asked after Magolor plopped them down onto a cot.

“Well, I have several questions for you,” he said as he gathered up a first aid kit, “and I'd prefer it if you were alive and not severely brain damaged so you can answer them. Do you have a name?”

“...Marx.” They said, flinching away from the light that Magolor was shining into their eyes.

“Alright then. Age, pronouns?”

“Nice to meet you too, No Name.” Marx snarked back at him, muttering a number and something about he's and him's.

“Fair enough. I'm Magolor.” He pulled off the jester's hat to search for any injuries underneath, much to Marx's protest. It looked like there was a crack in one of his horns, but it was otherwise fine. He also had a thin scar that seemed to go all the way around his body down the middle, which Magolor had no idea how he could've possibly gotten. “What happened to the Comet?”

“...You mean the Nova? It exploded.”

Magolor shot him an unamused look. “Yes, but _why._ ”

“I crashed into it pretty hard.”

He stopped. It took all of his brainpower to process that.

“... Hang on. You... you crashed into it.”

“Uh huh.”

“With enough force to make it shatter and completely _explode._ ”

“Yup.”

“...did you have a spaceship?”

“Nnnnope!”

“... _How are you alive._ ”

“Magical healing powers!”

That was a perfect opportunity for Magolor to ask his next question; “That explains it... my ship's scanners picked up an extremely powerful magical artifact in this area. I don't suppose that you have it?”

There was a twinkle in Marx's eye. It reminded Magolor of himself in some way.

“Nope. Haven't seen anything like that, unless you mean the Nova itself.”

Marx had such a cute little smile, and such bright eyes.

He realized that it reminded him of times he made himself look cuter, dumber, or just plain innocent in order to trick people into doing what he wanted.

Magolor decided that he wanted Marx off his ship as soon as possible. He didn't know what he was, where he'd come from, what had happened here, or why it had happened, but anything Marx said couldn't be trusted, and if he knew where the artifact was, then he was a serious threat.

All he could do was hope that healing him would result in him gaining his favor, and that he would be spared as a result. The two of them spent the rest of his recovery in silence.

Later that night, alarms began ringing throughout the Lor Starcutter.

Magolor awoke with a start, blearily looked at the clock to find it was about three in the morning (in Halcandran standard time, that is) and rushed his way out of the captain's quarters-

The alarms stopped, and one panicked little jester who was sprinting in his direction slid to a halt against the tiled floor.

“Wh-”

“ _Why do the cabinets have sirens?!_ ”

“I- I just- what-?!”

“You heard me!”

“Aren't you supposed to be asleep in the medbay-? Why were you in the cafeteria-”

“Couldn't sleep, wanted cookies!”

“Okay, hang on-” Magolor took a few deep breaths and stifled a yawn, “the cabinets do not have built in alarms. Something else must have set them off. Don't panic, I'll go check and see what it is.” He reassured his unwelcome guest, already making his way towards the bridge.

Magolor stared at the terminal in silence.

“What's it say?” asked Marx, seeming for all intents and purposes genuinely innocent.

_WARNING: Active artifact in cafeteria!_

The artifact had been defined as 'inactive' and 'dormant' until that point.

“Alright... what were you doing when this went off, exactly?”

“I just tried to open the cabinet, that's all.”

_Don't panic. Stay cool._ “Right. Seems to have been a false alarm, maybe it just detected you, noticed you weren't me and decided you were an intruder or something. I'll set it up so this alarm never trips again.”

“Thanks!” chirped Marx.

“G'night,” Magolor called to him as he entered his quarters and closed the door.

He then waited about ten seconds, listening to Marx's footsteps as he headed towards the cafeteria again.

When he couldn't hear him anymore, he teleported outside the door as to not make any sound. _Note to self; practice teleportation more often. Ouch._

He quietly crept towards the doorway and peaked inside.

There was Marx, standing in front of the cabinet. Of course, Marx didn't have any arms, so it wasn't like he could actually get at what was inside-

It took every ounce of willpower he had for Magolor to not gasp when Marx summoned in a pair of sparkling golden wings.

They were some of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. The sheer power he sensed within them was practically mouth-watering-

Marx used the talons to open the cabinet. He gave a delighted little gasp preemptively, only to frown. He perked back up upon moving to the next cabinet, opened it the same way with delight, only for his smile to fall again.

“No food... no food... no food...” he murmured to himself as he checked each one, “c'mon, Maggie, where do'ya keep the goodies...?”

He couldn't help himself. He glided out of hiding.

“Top right.”

He decided that, while it was satisfying to let Marx know he'd been caught in his lie, that this was definitely a mistake when Marx whipped around with a sharp gasp of genuine terror and the artifact-like wings he'd been ogling were suddenly turned against him.

_So, I might actually die here,_ was Magolor's first thought as his senses felt a strong, quick and dangerous spell gather up at Marx's wingtips.

Those same magical senses watched as Marx struggled with the spell. The enchanted stained glass plates flickered a variety of bright colors at a rapid rate as electric sparks flashed in between each panel. He seemed to wince at every flash, plus the stiff way he held his wings seemed to imply that he'd injured those, too, and was trying to use them while he was still hurt.

On top of trying to cast through the pain, it was extremely obvious that Marx had no idea what he was doing.

Magolor considered himself extremely lucky as when the spell inevitably failed, it didn't explode, or fire outward like some kind of lightning-based shrapnel, but instead, _backfired._

Marx was blasted backwards into the wall behind him, leaving a serious dent with a loud, echoing _clang._

There were only a couple beats of silence.

“...Marx?”

Magolor didn't know enough about the language to understand what Marx said next, but context clues suggested that it was almost certainly a swear.

“...You really don't know how to use those things, huh?”

“Shut up! I'll kill you! I-I can fight, just ask Kirby!” Marx struggled back up to his feet, trying to hide a grimace from what was definitely a new injury to add to the list.

Magolor watched him carefully. There was something that was just... _interesting_ about Marx. “Where'd you get those? They're attached to you, but you weren't just born with them, right?”

“Hey, genius. Look around and think about it. I wished for them.”

Oh. _Oh._

“... Huh.”

“That's all you have to say?!”

“No, it's just- if I hadn't thought about it, I probably would've wished for a planet-destroying artifact, too.”

Marx seemed to find that _very_ interesting. They studied each other with equal fascination.

_You're... just like me._ “You were just gonna get medical attention from me, steal my food, and leave, possibly killing me at some point in the process, huh?”

Two space-faring, power obsessed traitors stood facing each other. Magolor had the amusing thought that it was like he was looking in a funhouse mirror.

A few things occurred to him.

-He came here for Marx's wings. They'd be a huge asset to him, but it seemed based on how Marx had got them, he wouldn't be able to just steal them like he might've planned given the opportunity.

-Marx didn't know how to use them. That might get him killed someday.

-Magolor was fascinated by Marx, and kinda wanted to get to know him better.

“...I have a proposition for you.”

Marx raised an eyebrow.

“So, I came here so I could collect the artifact for my arsenal. Of course, the artifact I found was actually your wings-”

“You can't have them-!”

“-which I obviously can't have. However, you don't know how to use them properly, so all that power is almost completely useless under your control... Am I correct in assuming you don't have a place to stay?”

Marx nodded, not processing the implications.

“Stay with me, and I'll teach you how to use them.”

His eyes widened. “You're serious?”

“Yes! Think about it! You and I would be unstoppable together!”

Marx stopped to think about it. Based on his expression, he liked the idea.

In the depths of space, aboard an ancient ship, two distinct mischievous giggles rang out into the night.

\-------

“...I can't be certain,” Meta Knight answered after thinking about it, “but it's highly likely.”

“That's super cool! I'll have to ask around and see...”

Meta Knight smiled. He looked up to see a gold and red butterfly fluttering overhead.

For some inexplicable reason, it brought up an old memory of an ancient warrior he'd fought in the past.


End file.
